Lady of Darkness
by Starstone142
Summary: What if Valentine caught Jocelyn and Clary before they were able to reach New York? Clary has never known anything or accepted anything other than what her father tells her, and believes that the Clave is evil. But when she bumps into Jace, things get more complicated. May be rated M later. Semi-nice Jonathan/Sebastian.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The moon cast silver light on the clearing as the faint trail of blood was highlighted as a dark streak in the almost-white grass. A man bent down to touch the blood.

"Still fresh," he whispered after he held it up to his nose. The man's long silver hair shone brilliantly under the moon as the wind whipped it around. He turned to a person with him, a demon actually.

"Hunt her down. Bring me her daughter," he commanded, watching as the figure blurred with speed as it moved through the clearing. The man smiled grimly, patting his son's hair, which was long and silver like his, "Jonathan, your sister Clarissa will return to us tonight, and as for Jocelyn…"

The man trailed off in thought, curling his lip, "She will die."

A shriek pierced the silence and died, the silence lingering in the air like a heavy curtain. The demon reappeared in the clearing, his figure supporting a young girl of about three years old. The man smiled down at her tear-streaked face.

"My name is Valentine Morgenstern," he said, softly bending down to cup the girl's face, "And I am your father, Clarissa."

The young girl looked confused, but nodded.

"Jonathan, take her to the shelter," Valentine commanded. The boy complied, leading the exhausted girl away. Valentine turned to the demon, "Is she dead?"

The demon nodded and his face turned to something that might be a smile, but there were too many sharp teeth to tell. Valentine smiled back, "Good."


	2. Chapter One

**This is a shoutout to the people that reviewed-**

**SebbyLoverTMI**

**aftertales**

**mortalinstrumentsfanfictiongal**

**Okay, I hate authors' notes too, but I just want to say thank you to all the people that reviewed/liked/followed.**

* * *

Chapter One

ONE YEAR LATER

"Do you see that boy, Clary?" Jonathan said, his dark eyes lighting up curiously as he regarded the young boy playing below. Clary nodded. At four, she was still learning about the world, but at a far faster rate than mundanes.

"He was father's back up plan. Now he is of no use to us. The Lightwood Institute has taken him in," Jonathan said, the contempt in his voice clear. Clary nodded again.

"What's his name, Jon?" she asked, tilting her head so she could get a better look at him.

"Jace, Jace Herondale," Jonathan said, "But he thinks that he is the son of Michael Wayland. Shadowhunters are stupid like that."

Clary giggled, spreading out on the grass, "But aren't we Shadowhunters, too, Jon?"

"We're different," Jonathan said, an almost caring expression on his face as he reached down to ruffle Clary's hair, "We're better."

TWO YEARS LATER (A/N Clary's six by the way)

"Venice is amazing!" Clary squealed, taking in the ancient wooden houses and flowering villas. Valentine smiled affectionately.

"Then it will be yours when our plan succeeds," he said. Clary frowned a bit.

"What plan?" Clary asked, her green eyes sparking with curiosity.

"World Domination of course," Jonathan drawled as he swung down from the ramp he was balancing on.

"You've been watching too much mundane television," Valentine scolded. Jonathan shrugged.

SIX YEARS LATER (Clary's twelve now)

"What are you drawing?" Jonathan asked, peering curiously over Clary's shoulder. Clary shielded his eyes with her hand.

"I don't know," she replied, her eyes narrowing with concentration.

"How do you not know what you're drawing?" Jonathan asked again, swatting Clary's hand away to look at the art.

"Is that a rune?" Valentine asked, striding up to examine Clary's work.

"It looks like it. I've never seen it before, though," Jonathan said uncertainly. He hated not knowing anything.

"I just thought about the ability to sing, since you took me to see an opera, and this came up in my mind," Clary said, making an edge thicker, "There! Finished!"

"See if you can create more," Valentine said, greedily examining the artwork, "Any useful ones."

ONE YEAR LATER (Clary's thirteen. Sorry if this is confusing)

"Whenever you use a seraph blade, you need to name it with an angel's name. Common names are Michael and Gabriel," Valentine said, holding out a blade to Clary, "Try naming the blade Gabriel."

"Gabriel," Clary whispered softly in awe as the blade lit up. Valentine smiled.

"You got that on your first try. That's very good. Now remember, you can never name a blade Raziel," Valentine said, continuing on with his lesson, "Angel Raziel is the one that created Shadowhunters. Naming a blade his name is a sign of severe disrespect."

Clary followed Valentine with her eyes, the forest green orbs wide with wonder, nodding every few seconds.

"Can I teach Clary some different types of grips?" Jonathan asked curiously. Valentine nodded.

"But don't show off," he said, smiling as Jonathan started brandishing his blade, named after Angel Jordan.

THREE YEARS LATER (Clary's sixteen. Again, sorry)

"Clary, Clary!" Jonathan whisper-shouted, gently shaking his sister's shoulder, "Wake up. It's almost midnight."

"What, Jon? I need to sleep," Clary said, sitting up with a groan and stretching. Jon motioned for silence. Clary stopped.

"Don't you ever think that Father is doing something wrong with his plan?" Jonathan asked. Clary titled her head to one side, contemplating.

"It seems reasonable to me," Clary said decisively, "But I still think it is unnecessary to kill everyone with Shadowhunter or Downworlder blood."

Jonathan snorted, "I meant driving out the demons afterward. Doesn't that make us just like Shadowhunters?"

"Sleep first. Talk morning," Clary grunted. Jonathan rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Lilith's going to be here any moment now. You have to be fully awake by then," Jonathan urged.

"Lilith? As in the first wife of Adam that was cast down by God?" Clary half screamed. Jonathan clapped his hand over her mouth.

"Yes. She's going to be here soon," Jonathan said, listening intently for any sound of Valentine waking.

"Father says that we can't trust her," Clary stated. Jonathan snorted again.

"I think Father's wrong. I want to do something without Father," Jonathan said, pacing lightly on the room. Suddenly, a green glow filled the room. Clary froze and clambered out of bed, grabbing her seraph blade. A woman slowly formed out of mist. She seemed normal at first, until she turned around and in the place of eyes where two snakes. Clary stared as the woman turned to Jonathan.

"My Child," she said is a voice that was surprisingly melodic and smooth. Clary expected some type of rasping.

"Mother," Jonathan answered, reverently bowing his head. Seeing this, Clary followed in suit, "This is my sister, Clarissa. The one I have been telling you about."

"Ah, come here," the woman, who was now identified as Lilith, gestured to Clary. Clary uncertainly tottered forward in arm's reach.

"You have angel blood in you, but also a darker side. You will make a good Lady by Jonathan's side," Lilith said, examining Clary.

"L-lady?" Clary stuttered a bit, uncertain.

"You have not told her, Jonathan?" Lilith asked.

"Lilith plans to make me a lord when we succeed. As my sister, you will be a lady, the Lady of Darkness," Jonathan stated proudly. It was obvious that he wanted Clary to be happy about it, so Clary plastered on a fake smile and nodded slightly.

There was a small banging noise and a curse.

"Father," Jonathan hissed as Lilith disappeared. Just then, the door to their shared room opened and Valentine stepped in.

"What are you doing up so late?" Valentine asked, peering around the room.

"Clary and I were just having a little chat," Jonathan said, the lie falling smoothly from his lips.

"Well, talk. Tomorrow is a Saturday anyway, so you can take a break," Valentine said, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

* * *

**I'm almost finished Chapter Two. I'll try to update tomorrow.**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Clary was running. She didn't know where she was running to or what she was running from, only that she was running and something very dangerous was chasing her. Suddenly Lilith appeared. Lilith held a knife as long as her forearm in one hand, and a crown in the other.

"Choose, my dear. Death or as my slave. Choose," Lilith, said, the last word echoing around the dark space that Clary was in, "Choose."

* * *

Clary woke up then, panting slightly. The dream was already fading away. Clary knew that it was something important, but she couldn't remember.

"Hey, it's a Saturday. Do you want to go somewhere?" Jonathan asked, fully awake as he strapped a hidden seraph blade on his left thigh.

"I was thinking New York. We haven't been there in a while," Clary replied, smiling. It was a ritual. Using one of Valentine's many houses, they could go anywhere. Every Saturday, they went somewhere new. Jonathan groaned.

"I wanted to go to Paris," Jonathan said, strapping on his boots.

"We can go to Paris for the morning and then New York at night," Clary decided, quickly getting dressed. Jonathan flashed her a quick smile and ran out of the room.

Paris was amazing, as usual. After a breakfast of hot chocolate and croissants, Jonathan and Clary went to the garden beneath the Eiffel Tower, before touring the palace of Versailles yet again, because Clary never tired to examine the art. Jonathan insisted on seeing a demon dealer for a few trinkets after lunch, so most of the day flew by until Clary finally decided to go to New York.

"I want to go to some new clubs," Clary said, practically bouncing with excitement. The sunset made her hair look like fire. Jonathan was eyeing a few girls giggling at him. Clary sighed in annoyance, "Go. I'll meet you back home at around midnight."

Sebastian strolled off in grace while Clary stood for a few moments, contemplating how the busy city street in New York would look as a painting. She blinked and started walking down the street, ignoring the few people gawking at her. Clary was moderately pretty, long red hair, forest green eyes, and delicate features. She hated her freckles though, and she hated the fact she was so small. It made training ten times harder.

Most clubs were the ones that Clary had been to before, like Hunter's Moon, who was a place for mostly werewolves, but other Downworlders and the occasional Shadowhunter would swing by.

"I'll go to a mundie place then," Clary muttered under her breath. She checked her clothes- a sparkly, flowing, green silk top and skinny jeans, deeming that it was appropriate for a club. She increased her pace and a sign for a club named Pandemonium caught her eye. Clary analyzed it. The line was long, meaning that it was popular. The faint strains of music she heard was pretty decent, so Clary stood in line, behind two chattering girls that were obviously best friends. For a moment, Clary stared enviously. Other than Jonathan, her father, and the occasional demon Valentine dealt with, Clary didn't really know anyone.

"Excuse me, miss, but are you going in or not?" A high reedy voice asked. Clary blinked, realizing that she was at the front of the line. Clary nodded, gave an apologetic smile to the annoyed bouncer, and went in the club. Then, the next person in line was also being questioned.

"Is that spike dangerous?" the bouncer asked, in the same voice that irritated Clary.

"It's fake, rubber," a youthful voice replied. Clary turned to see a boy that was holding a knife. The boy had blue hair that was gelled carefully into tentacles, something that did not seem out of place in the club, but he also had glowing bright green eyes. The boy was an eidolon. Clary narrowed her eyes and tried to remember what she was taught about them. Eidolons feed on human blood and can change form…

"I'm a vampire hunter," the boy continued. The bouncer sighed and waved him through. Clary quickly started walking again, but still keeping an eye on the eidolon. When he made no threatening movements, Clary allowed herself to relax and enjoy the music, as loud as it is. A mundane boy caught her eye. He was obviously uncomfortable in the club.

"Hi, I'm Clary," Clary said, approaching the boy. Her heart was beating at a fast pace and she had no idea why. The boy looked up.

"I'm Simon," the boy said, "Simon Lewis."

"Hi, Simon…okay, I feel really stupid," Clary said, awkwardly. Simon laughed and Clary joined in. Suddenly, Clary saw the eidolon following a tall, graceful girl in a white dress.

"Oh, um, I have to go," Clary said. Simon looked confused, but nodded. Clary dashed off, following the eidolon. The girl disappeared in a storage room, and the eidolon quickly followed. Clary hesitated, and then silently crept in. The sight she saw was not one that she expected to see. Two boys, obviously Shadowhunters, and the girl, holding a golden whip, were cornering the eidolon, obviously ready to kill. As if on cue, they turned to stare at Clary.

"You can see us," a raven-haired and blue-eyed boy said bluntly.

"Obviously," Clary replied, "Because someone that's staring right at you can't see you at all."

"Looks like she and you and perfect match, Jace," the girl laughed, poking a golden haired boy in the ribs. Clary surveyed him. Jace. She remembered the boy playing in the grass. Clary opened her mouth the respond, but then the eidolon charged at them. Clary, on a pure moment of instinct, took out her seraph blade and threw it. It sunk deep into the demon's throat. The eidolon clawed at it as it dissolved. The three stared at Clary.

"Crap," she muttered.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Clary didn't think, she just ran- past a bewildered Simon, wading through the hordes of dancing people (thanking God for the first time that she was small), and pushing past an indignant bouncer that gave a squawk of protest. She made her way along the street, running faster than she had ever run before, even in training. Clary was oblivious to the stares of people, and even when she bumped into a posh looking woman with a pink poodle, the stereotypical aristocrat, she just stood up and kept running. The only thing that ran through Clary's mind was that she needed to get back to the house, seal the entrance, and report everything to Valentine and Jonathan. Her mind was racing, and she suddenly found herself facing a dead end. Clary cursed. She had forgotten that Valentine went somewhere else with the house on Saturdays with "adult business." Clary was cornered.

"You're a Shadowhunter," Jace said, his voice startling Clary. She spun around, crouched and seraph blade in hand.

"What?!…I mean, yes, yes I am," Clary's mind raced to find a cover story. Her mind raced as she tried to remember her cover story. Valentine would not be pleased if Jace, of all people, knew the truth.

"I've never seen you around before," Jace said, tilting his head inquisitively.

"I'm from an Institute in Switzerland," Clary explained, hoping that she sounded believable. She was normally as good a liar as Jonathan, but for some reason, feeling the golden eyes watching her made her nervous.

"Really, where?" the Shadowhunter pressed on.

"Helsinki!" Clary blurted out the place that she was most familiar with. She quickly realized her mistake with a sinking heart.

"One, you don't look Swiss, and two, Helsinki is the capital of Finland," Jace said, a bit pleased with his answer.

"My dad's the Swiss one. I don't know who my mom is. And Switzerland barely has any institutes, so Helsinki was the closest. My brother and I travel around the world with my dad, and I sometimes get locations mixed up…especially when someone looks at me like I'm a serial killer," Clary explain glaring slightly at Jace. She didn't like him, something that was clear to her. He seemed off, and strange, and Clary didn't really like things she was unfamiliar with. Plus, Jace was an arrogant prat, which Clary hated.

"Okay…." Jace stretched out the word, making it clear that he didn't believe her, "Why are you here then?"

"My dad and I travel around the world a lot, and I wanted to come to New York," Clary said, breathing after the sentence. Jonathan had told her before- Rule number one in lying is the breath naturally. Then no one would expect anything wrong.

"Why New York?" Jace asked again. Clary huffed. What was this? Was she supposed to win a reality show when she answered all the questions correctly?

"Um…" Clary said, trying a trick. She peeked at her watch, a birthday present from Valentine, and plastered the most realistic surprised look she could muster on her face, "Oh, it's late! I'm sorry but I have to go."

Clary tried to sidestep. Jace stopped her, "It's only eight."

"The sun's down," Clary tried again weakly. Clary inwardly cursed. Even if Jace hadn't been suspecting her, he would certainly now.

"Most Shadowhunters sleep late…unless you've been living under a rock lately?" Jace said, making an attempt at a light-hearted joke. Then, Clary snapped. She didn't know why, but now she was in a tight situation, was plain uncomfortable because Jace was here, and had a very long day in Paris. Now, a part of her subconscious recognized Jace's harmless question as an insult and Clary reacted instinctively. She kicked Jace, hard, in a-place-that-must-not-be-named (You know where). Jace buckled, but recovered fast. The once friendly, but kind of tense atmosphere turned into a fight, and Clary was cussing her head off mentally. She saw an opening and ran again. Clary knew where she was going.

Times Square would be crowded with people, so nothing could happen there. She would wait until it was midnight, and find Jonathan, go home, report everything to Valentine, and never go to New York again. It was what the sensible person would do, so Clary bought an iced coffee and watched the Time's Square TV run. It was midnight pretty soon, but the streets were still crowded. It was one o the things that Clary liked about New York. In the festivities of the new day, no one noticed the red-haired girl slinking silently away.

* * *

"I don't even want to know what you've been up to," Clary said, as soon as she saw Jonathan. A few strands of hair where sticking up, unlike his usual neat appearance, and there was a lipstick smear on his collarbone that apparently Jonathan hadn't seen yet.

"The same goes for you, sis," Jonathan said, eyeing her. Clary looked down, and fought the urge to scream. It was surprising that no one had mistaken her for one of the homeless. Her hair was sticking out all over the place, for some reason. Her normally spotless bright green shirt was almost completely black with clumps of dirt. The green was only left in a few patches. Clary's skinny jeans, her favorite pair of skinny jeans, wasn't noticeably dirty, but frayed and torn at many places.

"I better go clean up," Clary muttered, pushing her way past and entering the house, which was thankfully there now. After a long shower, with extra gardenia scented shampoo, Clary stepped out, made a mental note to burn the soiled clothes, and changed into another green top, but with black baggy jeans instead. She headed to the training room, where Jonathan was sure to be right now.

"Hey," Jonathan said, giving Clary a small smile as Clary sat on a bench, "Mind to explain why your clothes were so dirty today?"

"I saw a stray cat and a person chasing it, and I helped the person catch the cat," Clary said. Clary then was shocked at herself. What was she doing? Clary had to tell Jonathan about the three Shadowhunters, but it felt wrong.

"Oh," Jonathan said dismissively. He knew about Clary's love of animals.

"I'm going to sleep now," Clary said, even though she wasn't sleepy. Jonathan just shrugged and picked up a spear.

That night, Clary dreamed of Jace as an angel.

* * *

**I'm trying to update weekly now.**


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Ugh, I hate doing sit ups," Jonathan groaned as he stretched and yawned.

"They aren't that bad. Push ups are horrible," Clary countered. Jonathan kept on stretching.

"It's all in a matter of size, shorty. I'm going to bed," Jonathan walked off as Clary yelped indignantly.

"I'm going to the library," Clary shouted as she padded down the hallway, admiring the carved silver candleholders. For some reason, Valentine disapproved of electricity. He did let Clary get a cell phone, though. A pang of guilt rippled through Clary, and she grimaced. She still hadn't told Valentine and Jonathan about the incident in New York. Clary lost herself in trying to find a way to justify her actions.

The mahogany door of the library, with the bronze lion-headed knockers, loomed ahead. Clary always though the library seemed too ancient for the house, but Valentine liked it. Stepping in and breathing the musky scent of old books, Clary ran her finger over a few velvet-covered dictionaries, searching for the encyclopedia that documented all the Institutes around the world.

At last, Clary found it, the brightly colored book with plastic images contrasting with the otherwise dimly lit and gloomy-looking library. She flipped to the part on New York.

_The New York Institute was founded in 1789, where the first Shadowhunter became a prominent figure in the "New World," the Americas. Michael Lightwood became the first Shadowhunter that took an active part of the government, as a Congressman. He slowly, but steadily, gained power until he had enough wealth to build a church, which became the New York Institute. Up to date, his descendants, Maryse and Robert Lightwood, and their children, Alec Lightwood, 17, Isabelle Lightwood, 16, and Max Lightwood, 9, are the current owners. Other residents include Jace Wayland, 17, and Hodge, 64. Its notable features include…_

Clary closed the book, placing it back on the shelf. So Alec and Isabelle Lightwood were the other two Shadowhunters. Clary made a mental note to ask Valentine more about the New York Institute later and called it a night.

* * *

"Saturday again," Jonathan said semi-cheerfully, then dropping his voice, "We're meeting…her, again tonight."

Clary almost dropped her plate of bacon and eggs. She forgot all about Lilith, part of her dismissing it as just a weird dream, "Oh, okay."

"Where are we going then? Father won't be back until midnight," Jonathan changed topics at the speed of light.

"New York," Clary replied.

"Again?" Jonathan asked, startled.

"Is there something that you find objectionable about New York, Mr. Morgenstern?" Clary said, imitating a professor. Jonathan laughed.

"No, I wanted to go there too," Jonathan said.

"I don't even want to know," Clary said, shaking her head as she thought about last time. Jonathan laughed again.

* * *

Jace watched Alec balance precariously on the beam.

"Just jump and flip, Alec," Isabelle sighed, examining her perfect nails. Alec tensed and flipped…or more accurately, tried to. The rope that kept him from falling caught in midair and Alec hung two feet off the ground in a pose that reminded Jace of a zombie trying to do yoga.

"That's…a bit better," Jace said, smirking. Alec struggled to get the ropes off, and then fell flat on his face as they let go all at once.

"I think I chipped my two front teeth," Alec groaned as he straightened. Isabelle stifled a laugh.

"It isn't that hard, honestly!" Isabelle said, biting her lip to contain the giggles and returning Alec's glare with a sweet smile.

"I think we should all take a break," Jace said, stretching a bit. Alec sighed.

"Yeah, I could do with a bit of shopping," Isabelle said, standing up. Alec and Jace both groaned, but allowed Isabelle to drag them out of the Institute.

* * *

**As you've probably noticed, this is just a filler chapter, but included in the next chapter are-**

**- 2nd meeting with Lilith**

**- Clary meets Jace, Isabelle, and Alec again**

**- Clary meets Simon again**

**Maybes-**

**- Jonathan finds out about Jace, Isabelle and Alec**

**- Clary meets Magnus Bane**


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Clary surveyed the racks of dresses, the lace and silk that lay in heaps before her, and frowned. New York was bothering her; in fact, everything seemed off, but that might just have been the fact that she still hadn't told Jonathan about Isabelle, Alec, and…Jace. Clary spent some times in her bedroom thinking about the golden haired boy. Had Valentine wanted him as a son? Was it possible for him to become Clary's second brother if things had been different?

"I like this purple and red one," an excited voice floated in from the other side of the rack, "Jace, what do you think?"

"I think that Alec and someone else would very much like to go back to the Institute and sleep," Jace's cool drawl was unmistakable. Clary felt her blood freeze. She mentally cursed. Of all days, she just had to go to New York. Berlin was nice at this time of year. And from the sound of footsteps, they were coming to her lane.

"Come on, there has to be a better one here," Isabelle rounded the corner and came face to face with Clary, who promptly dropped the dress that she had been examining.

"You're the Shadowhunter from the club," Isabelle said, regarding her with a tilted head.

"Um, yeah," Clary said, stammering a bit.

"What are you doing here?" a raven-haired, blue-eyed boy asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Clary assumed he was Alec.

"Well, seeing that this is a dress store, I came here for a new dress," Clary said, some of her natural sarcasm slipping into her words.

"I meant in New York," Alec replied hotly, his temper rising.

"I was visiting with my dad," Clary replied, sticking to her story. Alec opened his mouth to ask again, but thankfully, Clary's phone rang, showing Jonathan's number. Clary quickly picked up, grateful for the distraction.

"Hello?" Clary asked.

"Can you come?" Jonathan asked. Clary wrinkled her brow.

"Where?" Clary asked.

"Our house. Lilith called in a bit earlier than expected. Besides, Valentine is usually home by six, and its eight now," Jonathan said. Clary stiffened, as she forgot all about the meeting with Lilith later in the evening.

"Okay, I'll be there," Clary responded, "Bye."

She promptly hung up, and turned back to the three Shadowhunters, eager for a chance to leave.

"My brother just called and he wants me home," Clary explained, calmly.

"You never mentioned you had a brother before," Alec said, his hackles raised again.

"Considering we've talked for a total of less than ten minutes, I think that's perfectly understandable," Clary replied through gritted teeth, "And I really do have to go."

"We can meet again next week in this same place," Isabelle decided. Clary nodded, mentally sighing in relief that furthur confrontation was avoided.

"Wait," Jace, who had been quiet the entire time, spoke up. Clary turned.

"Yes?" she inquired, a bit annoyed.

"What's your brother's name? What's your name?" Jace asked. Clary relaxed. Jonathan had paid much more attention to aliases than she did.

"My brother's name is Sebastian. I'm Clary," Clary said, turning on her heel and leaving.

* * *

Jace sat on his bed, spinning a dagger around his fingers, pondering about Clary. Alec didn't trust her. That much was obvious. And though Isabelle didn't show it, she was jealous of the redhead's delicate features and small size, something that Isabelle had always wanted to have. As for himself, he found the Clary to be rather attractive, and amusing. It was obvious from their fight that she was very good with a seraph blade, but rarely used one in a real fight. Also, Clary seemed to know Jace, something that puzzled him. Jace had never been outside New York, so he couldn't have met Clary before, and Clary did not show the same recognition to Isabelle and Alec. Jace, with a final flourish of his dagger, went out of his bedroom and out the door to order some Thai food. Isabelle's cooking was worse than any Greater Demon as far as Jace could tell.

* * *

Clary walked down 59th Street leisurely, admiring the little shops that lined the street. It was one of the things she liked about New York- the variety and the amount of places where things could be bought. A charming coffee shop with pink and green decorations stood out as the oddity of the street, as it looked "small town." Clary passed it without much staring, though it was attractive, but a figure caught her eye.

"Simon?" she asked cautiously. It would be embarrassing if she got the person wrong.

"Clary!" Simon said excitedly, "How are you?"

"Oh, just saying hi. My brother's expecting me to be home soon," Clary said, feeling a bit guilty.

"Oh," Simon said, a bit dejectedly, "Bye."

"Bye!" Clary waved and resumed walking. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and the house was there, so Clary entered and went straight to her bedroom, where Jonathan was already conversing with Lilith.

"Lilith," Clary said, bowing her head respectfully. Her memories seemed to have forgotten to remind her exactly how creepy her snakes/eyes were.

"Clarissa Morgernstern," Lilith said, and with her light accent, it sounded like the name of a princess, "You are hiding something from your brother. Best tell him now, before his life grows to be in danger."

Lilith faded away in the shadows, (I know, cliché) and Jonathan stared at Clary.

"What are you hiding?" he asked, obviously annoyed, "I thought you trusted me!"

"I know…it's just the right opportunity never came up," Clary said, trying to explain the feeling whenever she made up her mind to tell Jonathan or Valentine, like a pressure that warned her of danger.

"Oh, you found it too hard to say 'hey Jon, I need to talk to you privately'?" Jonathan's voice was mocking now.

"I met three Shadowhunters in New York," Clary blurted out. The feeling intensified, and then disappeared. Clary let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Oh," Jonathan said surprised that it was just that. Then, his expression lit up, "This is perfect!"

"What?" Clary asked, looking quizzically at Jonathan.

"If we can make them see things our way, to join us…" Jonathan trailed off, a thoughtful spark in his eyes.

"Father said it has to be only the three of us," Clary said, unsure where this was heading.

"I meant with Lilith. Besides, once I gather enough power, I'll kill Father," Jonathan said, sneering. Clary faltered.

"W-what?" Clary asked, her voice shaking. The full force of what they were doing hit Clary. This wasn't some typical teenage act of rebellion. This was dangerous.

"I'll kill Father," Jonathan said, oblivious to Clary's sudden weakness, "By the way, who are these Shadowhunters?"  
Clary scrambled to recover her wits, "Alec and Isabelle Lightwood…and Jace Herondale."

"Jace isn't a problem," Jonathan said dismissively, "Have you set up a meeting time?"

"What?" Clary asked, momentarily confused, "Oh…I mean, yes, yes I have. Next Saturday at this dress shop."

"Dress shop?" Jonathan repeated, looking amused.

"Yes," Clary said, then felt a wave of exhaustion ripple over her and yawned, "And I need my sleep."

"Okay. We'll meet the Shadowhunters next Saturday at a dress shop," Jonathan said in his best strategy voice. Clary giggled, and then remembered something.

"Oh, and by the way," she began, an evil smile on her face, "From now on, you're name is Sebastian."

"What?" Jonathan asked, the incredulous look on his face was priceless as Clary waved good night and ran off laughing to the bathroom.

* * *

**I'm going on vacation for a few weeks, so I won't be updating for at least two weeks, and this chapter was a bit rushed, but I hope you enjoy it. Please review! And thank you to the people that have reviewed/followed/favorite. Here are some cookies-**

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	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"Clear or pale pink, Alec?" Isabelle asked as she surveyed the two nail polish bottles she held in her hands. Alec groaned.

"We've been over this, Izzy. We're going on a friendly meeting to determine that Clary and Sebastian aren't dangerous, not on a date," Alec said. Isabelle gave the two bottles an once-over and finally selected the pale pink color.

"I'm ready," Isabelle said, after drying her now pale pink nails.

"Thank goodness," Jace said as he walked into the room, "I half-expected us to be late."

"We are late, you dummy," Alec grumbled as he stalked out the door.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Jonathan asked, glancing at the dresses on display edgily as if though they might attack him at any moment.

"Yes. They're just late," Clary said, watching the street from the paneled glass of the store.

"I told you they were already waiting," an amused Alec said to Isabelle as Clary and Jonathan whirled around.

"Hello. My name is Sebastian Fray," Jonathan said smoothly, offering his hand for the three Shadowhunters to shake.

"Alec," Alec said, nodding toward Jonathan.

"I'm Isabelle," Isabelle said, taking in Jonathan's fair hair and dark eyes and giving him an appraising look. Jonathan grinned at her.

"Jace," Jace nodded. Clary's heart beat a little faster, but she quickly dismissed it as the result of the weird way Jace was looking at Jonathan.

"So you're Clary's brother," Alec said, looking Jonathan up from head to toe. Jonathan smiled charmingly.

"Yes, I am," Jonathan said. Alec opened his mouth to reply, but Jonathan plowed on, "I can see that you are suspicious of our origins, and I can also see reason in such suspicions. I would appreciate it if you took us to see the New York Institute, seeing that only a Nephilim can enter an Institute. You can settle you doubts there. You see, even though we have traveled with our father around the world for all these years, we have never been in another Institute."

Clary was staring at Jonathan. Leave it to him to think of a suitable back-story to allow him access to the New York Institute and settle the Shadowhunters' doubts about their origins. Alec was doubtful, but Isabelle was ecstatic.

"You could see our library! We have a lot of Downworlder relics! And then there's…," Isabelle went on and on. Jace just leaned casually against the wall, cleaning his fingernails with a knife. Alec looked between Isabelle and "Sebastian," and Clary was also staring at the jabbering girl.

"Let's go," Alec said, resigned. Clary half expected Isabelle to jump up and clap her hands in excitement, but she just strode after Alec. Jace followed in a graceful lope.

"Well, shall we?" Jonathan said, grinning at Clary as he followed them out of the store. Clary began to feel doubt about what she was doing, but followed the group anyway.

* * *

"This is it!" Isabelle said, leading them to a…very normal looking church.

"The architecture is amazing!" Jonathan said, his eyes sweeping over the inside as he stepped in. Clary knew his look well enough. He was contemplating how the Institute would look as it burned to the ground. Yep, her brother was just the sweetest little part-demon ever.

"My parents aren't home. They're somewhere in Idris on a council trip. Hodge is here, though. You should go meet him. He knows everything, but that might just be because he spends all that time in the library…" Isabelle began to ramble again.

"No need. I'm already here," a late-to-middle-aged man with thinning gray hair walked towards the group. Jonathan whirled around. The man froze as he did.

"What are you doing here, son of Valentine Morgenstern?" he breathed out. Alec turned his head sharply to Jonathan and Clary, drawing his seraph blade.

"Oh shit," Clary muttered, "here we go again."


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"I still don't get it," Isabelle said, her brow furrowing with confusion. Alec sighed.

"I think I do," he said. Jonathan motioned for him to continue, "Your father is Valentine Morgenstern. He currently has the Mortal Cup. He is planning on killing all the current Shadowhunters, and creating new ones with the Mortal Cup as soon as soon as he gets the Mortal Sword, by summoning the Angel Raziel in the Lake of Tears (A/N I think that's what it's called, but I'm not sure). Then, he will reveal the presence of Shadowhunters to the mundanes and enslave them."

"Not the atypical story for an ambitious young man," Jace added in. Clary burst out laughing, but Jonathan was less than amused.

"This is serious. He has to be stopped," he said. Alec eyed him.

"Why are you helping us all of a sudden?" he asked. Jonathan contorted his face into the most believable mask of hatred Clary had ever seen.

"I am not my father," Jonathan said quietly.

"We'll help you kill him," Isabelle said, resting her hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Valentine plans to attack the Silent City next week to get the Mortal Sword," Jonathan said quietly. He glanced at the clock, "Clary and I should go."

* * *

"Good," Lilith said softly as Jonathan finished his report, "As those foolish Nephilim help us kill Valentine, we will turn on them, and create a new world from the ashes…and Clarissa; she still suspects nothing?"  
"No, Mother," Jonathan replied, "She still thinks I am her true brother."

"But you are, are you not?" Lilith asked, a smile playing on her lips. Jonathan's face twisted into a sneer.

"I am only tied to you, Mother. No one else," Jonathan said.

* * *

"Valentine's going to attack the Silent City. You have to let us go!" Alec shouted at his mother, Maryse. His face was slightly red from anger and the seraph blade in his belt wobbled. Maryse's mouth was in a tight, firm line.

"You are a child, Alexander. The Clave will take care of this," she replied.

"And who warned them in the first place?" Isabelle had joined in, "We deserve to fight!"

"Yeah!" Max's hand punched in the air. He paid no attention to the Manga book that sat open in front of him, his eyes filled with excitement as he watched the fight progress.

"Jace is already on his way to the Silent City, anyway," Alec said. Maryse stopped short.

"What?!" she cried, and dashed out the doors.

"Watch Max," Alec called over his shoulder as he ran after his mother.

"No way am I babysitting Max while you're fighting," Isabelle grumbled as she seized her whip and followed Alec out of the door. She didn't notice Max opening the door and following her.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"Father's gone. We're going too," Jonathan said as he buckled the belt on his gear.

"What are the Silent Brothers like?" Clary asked curiously. Jonathan shrugged.

"I don't know," Jonathan said, sticking a seraph blade into his belt, "I've only read about them. They're supposed to be healers, though they can fight if they want to."

"Will Father be able to overcome them, then?" Clary asked again.

"I suppose so. I heard him discussing with a warlock about summoning the Greater Demon of Fear and using the Mortal Cup to control him," Jonathan said. Clary froze.

"Abbadon?" she asked. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"Do you know another Greater Demon of Fear?" he asked sarcastically.

"Come here," Clary said, pulling out her stele. Jonathan reached out his arm and Clary drew a Fearless rune on the back of his hand.

"Thanks," Jonathan seemed startled and pulled out his own stele to mark Clary.

* * *

The Silent Brothers were losing. That much was apparent. They weren't exactly skilled warriors to begin with, and there was a…a thing in the battle that seemed to be killing them off with fear. The screams stabbed through the air, far worse than any other sound.

"What do we do?" Alec looked around frantically. The Silent Brothers' corpses littered the ground; sewn mouths ripped open and soulless black eyes shining in the torchlight.

"We're here!" Jonathan announced himself and Clary as they charged towards the Shadowhunters.

"Oh, goody," said Isabelle, pointing at the shapeless black mass, "Now can you please explain to me what that thing is?"

"Abbadon, the Greater Demon of Fear," Clary stood beside her brother, looking odd in the Shadowhunters' gear because of her delicate features.

"Great," Jace said, "Just what we need, a Greater Demon."

"I can draw you a Fearless rune," Clary offered. Jace raised an eyebrow. Clary started to explain, "I can create new runes—"

"Every Shadowhunter can," Alec cut in. Clary glared at him.

"Runes not in the Gray Book. I invented one a few minutes ago when Jonathan told me about Abbadon. It sort of counteracts the fear created by Abbadon so you can defeat him."

"I'll try it!" Jace piped up. Everyone looked at him. He shrugged, but there was a pink tinge in his cheeks, "What?"  
Clary drew the rune on Alec, too, but as Clary prepared to draw the rune on Isabelle, Abbadon headed towards Maryse.

"No!" Isabelle's shout was defiant as she charged towards the demon, who immediately veered towards her.

"Isabelle, get back!" Alec shouted. Isabelle still stood, but as the fringes of the black haze touched her, she began to shake.

"Izzy!" a small figure darted towards Isabelle. His short body raced towards the shaking figure, stepping over corpses and dodging other miscellaneous things strewn about.

"Max?" They all stared in disbelief, frozen.

* * *

**Special thanks to CoffeeLovingOtaku for his/her awesome reviews...not that I don't love all the other reviews too ;)**


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Max stood between Isabelle and the Greater Demon, giving them enough time to race towards Isabelle.

"No!" she shrieked, "Get Max! Protect Max!"  
It was too late. The black cloud receded from the boy and he fell. Isabelle's scream of grief and rage filled the entire cavern, and she advanced on the demon. Alec raced after her, drawing his seraph blade, too. Jace followed with Clary.

The demon descended on Isabelle first, as if determined to finish what it started. She quickly slashed the air with her seraph blade, but it seemed to have no effect. Jace leaped in, and somehow the haze retreated.

"Clary, give Isabelle a Fearless rune!" Alec shouted over his shoulder. Clary obeyed, drawing with steady hands despite the situation. Isabelle was pale, but her mouth was set in determination. They rounded the demon on all sides, and when they closed in, the haze suddenly disappeared.

"Where is it?" Isabelle asked indignantly, as if though Alec had the answer.

"I don't know," Alec's face was grim, "Greater Demons can travel through the realms."

"We have to go after it!" Isabelle demanded.

"Isabelle, be reasonable. We can't find it and it won't be safe for us to try," Alec's voice was soft and persuasive, but Isabelle rounded on him.

"Max _died._I always knew you were an unfeeling hypocrite, but can you at least try to show some grief over the death of your own brother?" Isabelle's eyes were bright and there was a tinge of pink in her cheeks as she stormed away. Alec, however, looked like his long lost grandmother told him that he was actually a girl…in other words, shocked.

"She didn't mean it," Jace said, "She's just angry at the world right now."

Maryse walked up to where the demon once was and gently picked up Max's body. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks.

"We have to alert the Clave about Abbadon," her voice shook, but there was a light in her eyes that was akin to fire. Alec opened his mouth to say something, but a scream pierced the air.

"Isabelle!" Alec shot off and the rest of the group followed. The sight was gruesome, and very unexpected. Isabelle was staring in horror at the body of a bulky man with a sword through his chest. Clary felt a sick feeling somewhere in her stomach as she flipped the man over. The face of Valentine Morgernstern stared at the ceiling blankly, his dark eyes glassy, as if though replaced by marbles during his death.

Jace cautiously approached Clary.

"I'm sorry," he said. He would have said more, except Alec interrupted.

"Look," he pointed at the wall where the Mortal Sword was mounted…if it was actually there. The case that once proudly held the sword was empty, and the sword was nowhere to be seen. Clary didn't look though. Something horribly familiar caught her eye.

"Jace, help me pull this sword out," Clary said, standing up. Jace gaped at her.

"Excuse me?" he asked, "That sword is the only thing keeping the blood vessels in Valentine's body clogged. As soon as it is removed—"

"Just help me do it," Clary said, as she gritted her teeth and started pulling on the hilt. Jace muttered something that sounded distinctly like "crazy as one of the Endarkened," but helped Clary anyway. The sword came free with a squelching noise that sounded oddly satisfying. Clary laid the sword down next to the sword in Valentines hand.

"Jonathan," she breathed.

* * *

**Um, so yeah, Max died. I'm sorry, but I'm trying to stick to the series as closely as possible, so Max kinda had to die.**


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

A flood of memories hit Clary all at once. The golden haired boy playing in the grass. Jonathan's voice drifting contemptuously in the air, "He's father's back up plan, but he has us now. He's of no use." And of course, Jace's name, "Jace Herondale, but he thinks he is the son of Michael Wayland. Shadowhunters are stupid like that." Imogen Herondale. Jace Herondale. They had to be related. Clary turned to Jace.

"Come down with me," she said. Jace looked at her weirdly.

"No!" he protested, "The Inquisitor practically wants to gut me and throw my remains into a raging fire…and that would be quite the considerable feat for someone her age."

"Jace, please," Clary tried to plead with her eyes. I need to know. This could be big for you and the Inquisitor.

"I'm going to regret this," Jace mumbled as he trumped down the stairs.

* * *

When Clary had heard the name Imogen, she had thought of a merry woman with dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes that twinkled when she laughed. Never would she think of a woman that looked like she was the result of a badly washed watercolor. Her skin was pale, and she had gray eyes so light they looked like silver, but there was a glint in them that reminded Clary of a freshly sharpened razor. Her pale blond hair was relatively long, but gathered in a tight bun. She wore Shadowhunter gear, but Clary knew that she was old, so old that it was almost ridiculous for her to be fighting.

"You are Clary Morgenstern?" the Inquisitor's voice resembled her eyes, clear and as sharp as a razor.

"Yes," Clary held her voice firm. Show no fear in the presence of enemies. Jonathan had reminded her of it countless times. A pang hit Clary as she thought of Jonathan, as it always had after the battle, but so far the mental chant, "He killed Father. He killed Father," kept them at bay.

"And you, Jace Wayland," the Inquisitor looked at him with obvious contempt. From his messy hair to his muddy shoes, Clary would have bet everything she owned that they were complete opposites, but what Jonathan had said when she was four was remembered clearly. And even now she could see a certain resemblance between Jace and the Inquisitor.

"I have something to say before we start the questioning," Clary interrupted before the Inquisitor could start.

"Yes?" the Inquisitor's impatience was outlined clearly in her voice. Clary knew that all Imogen wanted to do was get this meeting over with and see her safely in jail.

"Your last name is Herondale?" Clary inquired. Imogen stiffened.

"I don't see if that is any of your concern," she said stiffly. Clary took a breath and began.

"When I was four, my father took us to New York. My older brother, Jonathan, guided me to a small alcove of trees where we hid. Afterwards Jace came out," Clary started. The Inquisitor looked bored, but Jace muttered something along the lines of "glad to know you've been stalking me." Clary ignored him and continued, "Jonathan pointed him out to me. He told me about a man named Stephen Herondale. [At this the Inquisitor stiffened.] He told me that Stephen married a woman he didn't want to marry- Celine. She was eight months pregnant when Valentine attacked the Hall of the Accords, and when she found out Stephen was dead, she slit her own wrists to die with him. She didn't know it, but Valentine had been supplying her with dried angel blood, tricking her into believing it was medicine…so that he could make an experiment out of the baby. Valentine arrived at her house, and cut the baby from her stomach. He found a warlock that could ensure the baby was healthy, and raised him as his own. He was supposed to be the back up plan, just in case Valentine couldn't get to my mom and I. But he did. So he just dropped the boy off at an Institute, led the people to believe that he was someone else's son, and the Institute took care of him. Jonathan told me that the boy lived happily and he grew up, even though Valentine never saw him again…Jonathan told me the boy was Jace."

* * *

**The first day of school for me is tomorrow. I may not be able to update for a while.**


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

A flood of memories hit Clary all at once. The golden haired boy playing in the grass. Jonathan's voice drifting contemptuously in the air, "He's father's back up plan, but he has us now. He's of no use." And of course, Jace's name, "Jace Herondale, but he thinks he is the son of Michael Wayland. Shadowhunters are stupid like that." Imogen Herondale. Jace Herondale. They had to be related. Clary turned to Jace.

"Come down with me," she said. Jace looked at her weirdly.

"No!" he protested, "The Inquisitor practically wants to gut me and throw my remains into a raging fire…and that would be quite the considerable feat for someone her age."

"Jace, please," Clary tried to plead with her eyes. I need to know. This could be big for you and the Inquisitor.

"I'm going to regret this," Jace mumbled as he trumped down the stairs.

* * *

When Clary had heard the name Imogen, she had thought of a merry woman with dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes that twinkled when she laughed. Never would she think of a woman that looked like she was the result of a badly washed watercolor. Her skin was pale, and she had gray eyes so light they looked like silver, but there was a glint in them that reminded Clary of a freshly sharpened razor. Her pale blond hair was relatively long, but gathered in a tight bun. She wore Shadowhunter gear, but Clary knew that she was old, so old that it was almost ridiculous for her to be fighting.

"You are Clary Morgenstern?" the Inquisitor's voice resembled her eyes, clear and as sharp as a razor.

"Yes," Clary held her voice firm. Show no fear in the presence of enemies. Jonathan had reminded her of it countless times. A pang hit Clary as she thought of Jonathan, as it always had after the battle, but so far the mental chant, "He killed Father. He killed Father," kept them at bay.

"And you, Jace Wayland," the Inquisitor looked at him with obvious contempt. From his messy hair to his muddy shoes, Clary would have bet everything she owned that they were complete opposites, but what Jonathan had said when she was four was remembered clearly. And even now she could see a certain resemblance between Jace and the Inquisitor.

"I have something to say before we start the questioning," Clary interrupted before the Inquisitor could start.

"Yes?" the Inquisitor's impatience was outlined clearly in her voice. Clary knew that all Imogen wanted to do was get this meeting over with and see her safely in jail.

"Your last name is Herondale?" Clary inquired. Imogen stiffened.

"I don't see if that is any of your concern," she said stiffly. Clary took a breath and began.

"When I was four, my father took us to New York. My older brother, Jonathan, guided me to a small alcove of trees where we hid. Afterwards Jace came out," Clary started. The Inquisitor looked bored, but Jace muttered something along the lines of "glad to know you've been stalking me." Clary ignored him and continued, "Jonathan pointed him out to me. He told me about a man named Stephen Herondale. [At this the Inquisitor stiffened.] He told me that Stephen married a woman he didn't want to marry- Celine. She was eight months pregnant when Valentine attacked the Hall of the Accords, and when she found out Stephen was dead, she slit her own wrists to die with him. She didn't know it, but Valentine had been supplying her with dried angel blood, tricking her into believing it was medicine…so that he could make an experiment out of the baby. Valentine arrived at her house, and cut the baby from her stomach. He found a warlock that could ensure the baby was healthy, and raised him as his own. He was supposed to be the back up plan, just in case Valentine couldn't get to my mom and I. But he did. So he just dropped the boy off at an Institute, led the people to believe that he was someone else's son, and the Institute took care of him. Jonathan told me that the boy lived happily and he grew up, even though Valentine never saw him again…Jonathan told me the boy was Jace."


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

"You're saying that I'm actually related to this old bat over here?" Jace's reaction was almost exactly as Clary had expected- mildly humorous and not very serious. The Inquisitor sprang to her feet.

"Take off your shirt," she ordered. Jace gawked at her.

"Are you actually asking me to strip?" he asked. The Inquisitor made an impatient noise at the back of her throat and began to yank the bottom of Jace's shirt up. Feeling conspicuous, Clary took a step back.

"Now this is something you don't see everyday," Alec drawled as he made his way downstairs. The Inquisitor backed off, her cheeks tinged with pink.

"Take off your shirt," she ordered again. Jace held out his hands.

"Okay, okay!" Jace's voice was slightly frantic. He pulled off his shirt and the Inquisitor pressed back his shoulders. Clary couldn't take it anymore. She started laughing, and Alec joined in. Isabelle, who had slipped in quietly was shaking soundlessly.

"The star," the Inquisitor looked stunned. She turned to Clary.

"Why didn't you mention this earlier?" the Inquisitor practically barked at her.

"I thought it was just some story made up to scare me at the time," Clary tried to sooth her, "I forgot all about it until I heard your last name was Herondale."

"You really are my grandson," the stunned look was back on the Inquisitor's face and she looked at Jace carefully, "Yes, I see it now. You have Stephen's hair and nose. Your jaw line is more like Celine, as are your lips. You must have gotten your golden hue from the angel blood Valentine was giving you."

"And you're my grandma," Jace looked a little dazed, as if though he was in a dream.

"Well, pleased to meet you," Alec looked like he was desperately trying to correct the situation. Then, he muttered something that sounded like "meeting my parabatai's grandmother…it even sounds wrong."

"I need to go back to Idris immediately," the Inquisitor rose, "They must be notified of this…change. I will—"  
Whatever she was about to say was cut short by a sudden flaring of the living room fire. She turned her head to see a small slip of paper. Her eyes narrowed and she picked it up. The others crept cautiously around her to peek at the message.

_Berlin Institute attacked. __Most dead.__Institutes evacuating to Idris.__Come immediately.__Bring warlocks._


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

"Magnus Bane has been contacted. He will summon a portal and accompany us to Idris," Maryse was explaining the situation to the rest of the Institute. All except Hodge, that is. He had mysteriously disappeared before the Inquisitor came. But with the current events, no one bothered much with unexplained events.

Either way, in fifteen minutes, all prized possessions (*cough*weapons*cough*) were packed and everyone was shuffled into the front of the Institute to wait for Magnus. Now, when Clary heard the term warlock, she expected a goth looking older guy that basically was the stereotypical vampire for mundanes. What she didn't expect was Magnus Bane.

For one thing, he looked like he was in his late teens, about nineteen. He had coal black hair and Asian features. If it weren't for his pale skin and cat eyes, Clary would have guessed that Magnus was Chinese. Also, his way of dress was bizarre. He wore a black trench coat, which would have looked moderately acceptable if it weren't for the thick sheet of rainbow glitter. Underneath, he wore a white shirt splattered with what looked like blue paint and from his neck hung a loose tie with the design of Bob the Tomato (A/N- Remember from that vegetable kids show?). Baggy bright pink pants clashed horribly with his plastic green belt. He glanced around him and then started drawing swirling symbols on the concrete. No passerby paid him any attention though.

"I can help," Clary offered, breaking the silence. All eyes turned on her and she shifted nervously.

"I have a few runes that can create a portal and a few that can stabilize one," Clary explained.

"Sure," Magnus shrugged and resumed his work. Clary was taken aback by his casual manner, but bent down next to him and resumed drawing the stabilizing runes.

* * *

"So this is Idris," Clary spoke softly, as if though a sudden sound would shatter the scene around here. Buildings made with the blessed metal of the angels shimmered, shining brightly in contrast with the Shadowhunters dressed in black. Clary saw a variety of nationalities represented, from the dark skinned, delicate-looking Middle Eastern Shadowhunters to the burly looking, fair skinned people from the real Helsinki Institute. Towers glittered in the distance, clearer than the sky. Clary knew that there were invisible wards all over Idris to make sure that no demons could get in.

The group was noticed by a formal, but nasty, looking man with long black robes with a golden C embroidered in the left pocket. He stared at Clary, and then immediately motioned for what seemed to be his entourage.

"Seize her immediately for questioning," his voice was curt, but firm. Jace and the Lightwoods immediately shouted their protests.

"She's innocent!" Jace roared.

"Please believe that she is to be trusted," the Inquisitor looked as stiff and as unyielding as always.

"That will be determined," the man's voice was silky smooth, "Take her away.

* * *

**Three chapters in one night. I hope it made up for the [sort of] long wait.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Clary took in her surroundings- the unremarkable gray stone walls, the bars carved with passages of the Bible to keep in Downworlders. But I'm not a Downworlder, Clary thought furiously. I'm a Shadowhunter. I acted on what I thought was right, what I believed for an entire lifetime. They have no right to imprison me here. They have no right to judge me for the things that I know nothing of. A sudden thought hit Clary and she had to bite down a laugh.

Valentine was always saying how the Consul, Malachi as she had found out from the guards, and the Clave were playing God when really they should be focused on driving out demons and Downworlders. For the past few weeks, Clary was learning that Valentine was wrong, but now, she realized that his beliefs held an inkling of truth. The Consul was corrupted, that was clear, but most of the Shadowhunters were good and actually wanted to do the right thing…like the Lightwoods and Jace. Jace.

Clary often wondered about the golden haired boy. And now, looking back on the past, she didn't really know him at all, but she knew that he was kind, often rude, but a good person. Then, as she replayed the brief conversation she had with Jonathan about Jace, Clary realized with a jolt that Jonathan was jealous. Jonathan was jealous about a boy he knew little about. But then again, it was almost natural. Valentine had always been a cold father, showing only the slightest of emotions. Jonathan and Clary spent the majority of their lives only with each other for company. Valentine was always visiting that demon or this warlock. But from what Clary had gathered (and Jonathan had no doubt gathered more), Valentine planned on raising Jace as a "normal" father. He would laugh with Jace, teach Jace the things that normal Shadowhunter boys got to know (and some extra), and tease Jace. It was almost like Jace was a real child of Valentine's, not Clary nor Jonathan.

"Hey," Jonathan's voice startled Clary out of her thinking.

She raised her head to see him leaning against the opposite wall, between two torches. As an artist, the symmetry and the unique shading the torches presented on Jonathan's pale blonde hair would have enraptured Clary. But Clary still remembered Valentine's dead glassy eyes and how the white knuckles of his hand still gripped his sword as he stared at the boy that was his son in blood, but nothing else. Clary swallowed and blinked, clearing the image from her mind.

"What are you here for?" Clary made her voice snappish and brusque, to mask the fact that her heart was beating on overdrive, and that her mouth had gone suddenly very dry. Jonathan laughed. The sound echoed around the cells. Please let someone hear, Clary pleaded, please.

"Is that any way to greet your brother, Clary?" his voice was light, as if though this was any normal conversation.

"It is when your brother just killed your father and is planning on world destruction," Clary replied evenly, mimicking his light tone. Her green eyes held steady with Jonathan's black ones, something she was proud of. I will not show fear, Clary thought firmly, I will not.

"I'm sure that you've heard I attacked the Berlin Institute," Jonathan's voice was casual as he drew out a seraph blade, the light hurting Clary's eyes for a brief moment, and began cleaning his fingernails.

"Yes, are you waiting for a sticker for that? Is Lilith more the scented type or the metallic type?" Clary tried to sound sarcastic, but her voice almost shook at the end. Jonathan's eyes narrowed. Got you, Clary thought smugly.

"I'm making a serious offer," Jonathan said, making his voice softer. Clary knew that voice. It was the voice that she had first heard Jonathan use when they were playing. He was chasing her, and she fell and skinned her knee. Jonathan bent down and lightly cleaned it while bandaging it, making sure…stop. Clary wiped the memory from her mind. He's different now, not the same person.

"Is it a golf club for seven dollars or did I misinterpret?" Clary mocked.

"I have forces beyond your imagination. I will tear the world down," Jonathan said. Clary opened her mouth to reply, but Jonathan cut her off, "Can't you see that I'm trying to remake the world to a better place? This world is full of inequalities."

"Glad you noticed," Clary snorted. A brief look of anger crossed Jonathan's features, but he continued.

"I will kill all Shadowhunters and no one can stop me. If they try, they will die," Jonathan informed Clary.

"Did you know that the last sentence rhymed?" Clary asked.

"I'm offering you what I have offered no one else- mercy. Join us and you will be the Lady of Darkness. You will be the queen of the new world," Jonathan's voice escalated at the end. It was clear that he wanted Clary to join him, which made her even more stubborn not to join him.

"One, I have no wish to be the Lady of Darkness, and two, you should really consider becoming a salesperson," Clary said. She forced herself to make her voice sound light, as if she wasn't bothered, but she was, and she was sure that Jonathan could tell. A look of triumph crossed her brother's features.

"I'll let you think about it," he said, and with a flourish of his cloak (the exact type Valentine used to wear, causing a painful pang in Clary's heart), he was gone.

**This is a rant of mine, so don't read it if your not in the mood.**

**Anyway, this has been absolutely killing me over the weekend. Isabelle has black eyes, but her parents, Robert and Maryse, both have blue eyes, which is a recessive gene. And Valentine refers to Maryse as "My Maryse" and Maryse goes "I'm not your Maryse anymore," which means that they most likely had a relationship together. But Valentine has black eyes. Let that sink in.**

**PS- for the people that really aren't getting it, Valentine might be Isabelle's real father.**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Jace glanced at the squat unremarkable building on his right. That was where Clary was being held. He had to resist the urge to break in and get her out. No matter what the Clave says, she's still a Shadowhunter, he thought firmly, the bars won't affect her.

"Jace, don't do anything rash," the Inquisitor gently scolded as if though she could read Jace's mind. Then again, she probably could with her grandmother super powers.

Grandmother. Jace still found the word to be creepy (the type that gave you chills when you thought about it) but oddly satisfying in some sort of way. He had family, a place where he could belong. And the Inquisitor really wasn't really that bad if you really thought about it.

"When will they let Clary out?" Jace diverted his attention to the present conversation. The Inquisitor sighed.

"The Clave takes a very long time to make even the smallest decisions. Without the Mortal Sword to question Clary with, it might take up to a few months," the Inquisitor glanced at Jace, gauging his reaction. Jace kept his tone a forced calm.

"What if other Shadowhunters give evidence that Clary helped?" he asked. Even though he wasn't exactly of age, Robert and Maryse certainly were and Alec was gaining some position in the Clave. If they gave enough evidence, it was possible...

"It is possible," the Inquisitor said thoughtfully, echoing Jace's thoughts, "But the information must be—"

Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by two tolls of a bell that rang throughout Idris.

"The warning bells," Jace was alarmed. Why would they be tolling?

"To the Hall," the Inquisitor ordered, her commanding nature taking over.

LINE BREAK

"The London Institute has been attacked as well as the Beijing and Los Angeles ones," the Consul's eyes were cold, reminding Jace of steel. Malachi turned to one of his followers in the fringes of the crowd, "Bring in Valentine's daughter for questioning."

Jace's heart leaped for a moment, and he shook off a twinge of annoyance. He was turning into a pansycake (Divergent reference). Jace shifted from foot to foot edgily as he waited for Clary to be brought in for questioning. When he finally saw her, his heart started beating erratically again, and he fought off another twinge of annoyance.

Clary looked fine, as far as he could tell. Her fair skin had a few mottled cuts and bruises, but those were minor injuries. Her mouth was set in determination, and her eyes were filled with a type of fire…and a thin layer of moisture. Jace knew enough about Clary to tell that she didn't cry very often. She didn't even cry when she found out her brother killed her father! But then again, the layer of moisture wasn't very noticeable anyways, so it was probably a minor thing that upset her. A broken nail then, Jace thought amusedly.

"You are wanted for questioning of the attacks in the Institutes of London, Beijing, and Los Angeles," Malachi's eyes swept condescendingly over Clary, lingering at a frayed cuff.

"Well, I've been sitting in a cell for the past day, so I couldn't actually have done anything, could I?" Clary's voice was clear and firm. Jace smiled.

"Your brother led these attacks," Malachi started ranting now, "Your brother—"

"Just visited me in my cell," Clary finished for him calmly. What she was saying settled into the crowd. There were gasps and pointed fingers. Jace rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Malachi's look was victorious, "Are you admitting that you conspired with your brother to form these attacks?"

"No. In fact, he left me with an offer to join him, which I am certainly not doing," Clary remained remarkably calm in the situation. Malachi however was turning beet red.

"Miss Morgenstern, you cannot possibly believe that we would actually trust you, even with the Mortal Sword for questioning," Malachi was speaking more to the Clave than Clary now. Some of the Clave were nodding to his words, but most were neutral, a sort of respect shining in their eyes as they took in how well Clary was handling the situation.

"I would like to give testimony to Clarissa Morgenstern," Maryse stepped out from the crowd. Malachi zeroed in on her.

"Continue," his look was victorious again, no doubt thinking that Maryse was going to blame Clary for the death of Max. Jace smirked.

"Clary preformed bravely at the battle in the Silent City. She was a valuable asset to the fight and saved many lives. I blame Max's death as entirely my fault and wish to see her freed," whispers erupted all over the hall at Maryse's testimony and Malachi's look changed from victorious to outraged.

"Your son is dead because of her," he hissed. Maryse glared back at him.

"I believe I have already told you that Max's death is my fault," Maryse's mouth was tight with anger, and her body was tense. Jace noticed a slight stiffening in Isabelle and mentally made note.

"Mrs. Lightwood, I know you are emotionally devastated at your son's death and you may not be thinking clearly, but surely you must understand that Ms. Morgenstern was responsible for the attack-," Consul Malachi started, but was cut off by Alec.

"Clary warned us of the attack, so we were able to save a few Silent Brothers and better prepare for the threat. If anything, she should be thanked for her part in the battle," Alec said. Malachi started to say something, but Alec continued, "Also, Clary just betrayed her father and witnessed him killed by her brother, who is currently trying to take over the world. If anyone is going through emotional devastation, it would be her."

Alec's words were beginning to sway the council now. Some were nodding along to his words. The Inquisitor stepped forward.

"I am willing to vouch for Clarissa Morgenstern," her voice rang clear in the hall, as strong as steel. Malachi looked resigned.

"All in favor of Clarissa Morgenstern freed?" most of the council raised their hands, "Very well. Ms. Morgenstern, you're free to go."

**Hey! Remember me? Yeah. I'm still alive, so hurrah for that. I'm sorry that I took so long to update, but there's been so much homework in eighth grade and I'm really busy. I'll try to update more soon.**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Clarissa was enjoying her first real meal in days as she chatted and laughed with her new friends. But the peace was short lived. The warning bells tolled again, four times. At the sound, everyone froze.

"To the Hall," the Inquisitor's voice was curt. Everyone obeyed her directions.

LINE BREAK

"An army of demons is close to the border of Idris. Security has been tightened and we urge everyone to prepare for battle and ensure the safety of the young and elderly," Malachi's voice was firm. Clary wondered in the change in him, but a sudden horrifying thought hit Clary.

"Wait!" her voice came out a bit too sharp, and Clary winced. The attention of the hall was shifted, as every Shadowhunter in the room looked at her, "My brother, Jonathan. He is of demon blood and angel blood. If he enters he city limits and spills demon blood on the towers…"

Clary didn't bother to finish the sentence. They already knew what would happen.

"Tighten security around the borders at once, especially around the towers!" Malachi's voice was curt as he dished out orders. Clary stared for a moment before she was sharply jerked back to attention by a tug of the arm from Jace.

"Come on," he said. Clary slightly tilted her head to one side, confused.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"There's a tower on the south side of the city. It's relatively unguarded and below it lays a forest. I can bet you that's where your brother will strike," Jace strode impatiently, brushing past the hordes of people. Clary followed, knowing from her experience with her brother, they were most likely too late.

LINE BREAK

Clary felt sick as she looked into the glassy eyes of the Shadowhunter was supposed to be on guard. His throat was slit neatly, if there was such a thing. Jace took a deep breath.

"We need to alert the Clave," he said, turning back.

"They already know," Clary said. Jace stopped in midstep, "If Jon—Jonathan already attacked the tower and lowered the defenses of the city, he would immediately attack. He wouldn't wait. I bet you he's already pillaging the Hall by now."

"Then we better join in the fighting," Jace smiled grimly and started on his way back.

LINE BREAK

Clary fought as best she could, and except for the occasional gash and the sting of demon blood, she was relatively unhurt. Then again, it probably had to do with how the demons were backing away from her, deliberately holding back. Clary cursed. Jonathan had no doubt ordered the demons not to hurt her. Clary knew that she would then feel obliged to her brother, and she felt guilty attacking someone who couldn't attack back. She did help the occasional Shadowhunter who seemed to be loosing though, and she was vaguely aware that through those acts, she was gaining their trust.

Clary and Jace started fighting together, but they slowly drifted apart, and now Clary stopped to check on her partner's location. She couldn't find him. Clary felt a little edge of panic, but she fought it down. Jace is fine, she thought soothingly. Clary dashed out into the battlefield again, determined to get to one of the towers and reactivate the defenses. That would trap the demons inside and prevent any more demons from entering the city limits.

LINE BREAK

Jace would have been having the best time of his life if he didn't see the occasional Shadowhunter die. But since he did see the occasional Shadowhunter die, Jace was just having a little fun killing demons. At first, he was surprised at how well Clary fought. Of course, they had traded blows before in New York because of a misunderstanding, but as Clary started to fight demons, Jace knew at once that she was very well trained. But when he turned to get rid of a particularly nasty winged demon, Clary disappeared. Jace frowned, but continued to fight, knowing that with Clary's skill with a seraph blade, she'll be fine.

LINE BREAK

Clary mounted the steps two at a time, making sure that she was going the right way. For once, she was thankful of what Valentine had taught her. In the seemingly endless sessions of creating new runes, Clary had figured out a defense rune that, once drawn on the white metal of the angels, will enable it to form a sort of repellent against demons. Clary knew that the towers of Alicante where connected, so if she drew the rune on one tower, it should activate the rest.

Clary finally reached the top of the tower, paused a moment to catch her breath, located the center of the tower, and started drawing the rune.

"Well, if it isn't my sister coming to save the day again," Jonathan's cool drawl permeated the air and Clary froze. She managed to stand up though, and see Jonathan standing at the top of the tower. She mentally cursed.

"What do you want, Jon?" Clary didn't want to use her nickname for Jonathan, but it came so naturally.

"Join me," Jonathan said simply, and for one moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes, but the blanked quickly.

"No," Clary's voice was firm. She drew her seraph blade, not bothering to mention what she was going to do. Jonathan already knew. But he laughed.

"I know you, Clary. You're too soft to kill anything, especially your own brother," Jonathan's voice was taunting. He leered at Clary condescendingly, so utterly sure about what he said.

Clary sprung towards him, and they started to fight. Slashes, dodges, and parries were a blur to her as she fought. Some part of her, the annoyingly logical part, noted that it was very unsafe to fight on the top of a windy tower, but Clary ignored it, focusing all of her attention on slipping past Jonathan's defenses.

She had sparred with him so many times in training, and most of her best moves were what he had taught, and Clary very rarely won when she was against Jonathan, but the last time Valentine was alive, Clary sparred Jonathan and won. Your size is your benefit, Valentine's words came back to her, and you can slip past his defenses easily because they are large and loose compared to yours.

And it was true. Clary managed to pin Jonathan down, a seraph blade at his throat, but she didn't kill him. She just held him in the position, noting absently the contrast of the soft wood of the training room to the white metal of the tower. The training room was always stuffy, but the tower top was cool and there was a wind blowing through.

"You can't kill me, Clary," Jonathan's voice was still mocking. There was a sadistic smile twisted on his lips. Clary opened her mouth to respond, but she felt a sudden blow to the head, spreading what felt like fire lancing through her body.

With a jolt, Clary remembered that Jonathan loved the techniques where you lure the opponent into a false sense of victory and then knock them unconscious. That was her last thought as she blacked out.

**Here's a sneak-peak of Chapter 17-**

**The battle was finally over. The creamy white buildings ran red with Shadowhunter blood, but it was over, and for Jace, it was all that mattered. Gone was the thrill of killing demons, and the sense of euphoria when he managed to defeat a particularly dangerous demon. It was all gone when he watched a boy barely of age get carried away and ripped apart by a winged demon. But where was Clary?**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

The battle was finally over. The creamy white buildings ran red with Shadowhunter blood, but it was over, and for Jace, it was all that mattered. Gone were the thrill of killing demons, and the sense of euphoria when he managed to defeat a particularly dangerous demon. It was all gone when he watched a boy barely of age get carried away and ripped apart by a winged demon. But where was Clary?

Jace pushed through the crowds of reuniting families, determined to find Clary and plan out what was to be done next. He spotted Alec and Isabelle, looking scraped up from the fight, but none the worse for wear. Jace weaved his way over.

"Have you seen Clary?" he asked. Isabelle shook her head.

"I thought she was with you," she said.

"I saw her moving to one of the towers during the fight," Alec reported, "She might have been trying to re-activate the towers."

Understanding dawned on Jace's face, "That's why there were no more demons coming in."

"We'll split up to look for Clary then," Isabelle decided.

LINE BREAK

Clary wasn't tied. She was just trapped in a metal room, with half a dozen demons on guard. Clary didn't know whether to take it as a good sign or to feel slightly insulted that Jonathan thought so little of her.

Approaching footsteps raised Clary's head and she saw Jonathan striding confidently towards her room.

"Think of the Devil and He shall appear," Clary muttered under her breath. Jonathan laughed.

"Well, you certainly are…opinionated," Jonathan's voice held amusement, and Clary bristled under it.

"I'm not the one trying to take over the world," Clary spoke to him as if she were speaking to a small child, slowly and distinctly. Jonathan's face clouded for a moment, but he smiled again.

"I'm here to give you an offer," he said, sitting on a chair Clary didn't even realize was there.

"Let me guess," Clary said dryly, "Join me in my plot to takeover the world and you shall be queen!"

"Well, it seems like you are clear on what I'm offering," Jonathan's tone was light, and Clary hated him at that moment so much it was almost absurd. He was here joking about his plans, and in the meanwhile, hundreds of Shadowhunters had died for no reason at all but to get Clary out of Idris and into the hands of her brother.

"I will never join you and betray my friends," Clary resumed the tone she used for small children. Jonathan's face contorted in a sneer.

"You think your friends can actually trust you? You think they can actually win against me? You're wrong!" he turned and strode away, leaving Clary feeling hollow.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

"I can't find Clary anywhere!" Alec was panting from the exhaustion of running around the city nonstop for at least an hour.

"Me neither," Isabelle said. Her dark eyes were filled with worry.

"All Shadowhunters are supposed to regroup in this hall so we can have a conference about what to do next. Clary would have followed," Alec was frowning with concentration, "It doesn't make sense that she isn't here."

"What if Clary was taken?" the idea came suddenly to Jace's mind and he was almost frantic with worry, "When I was fighting with Clary, the demons weren't acting right. They kept on trying to grab Clary, but never tried to hurt her."

"Jonathan must have sent them to lure Clary out," realization dawned on Isabelle's face.

"I remember there's an abandoned mini-fortress around the Lake of Tears just outside the boundaries of Idris. That must be where they are," Alec said. Jace gave him a curious sidelong glance.

"How do you know?" he asked. Alec awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"Magnus told me that there was once an attempt to build a place where demons could be kept for questioning, and since they can't enter Idris, the fortress was built, but after a massacre, it was abandoned and deemed too dangerous for use," Alec turned slightly pink at the mention of Magnus, but Jace and Isabelle were too pre-occupied to notice.

"So if we can convince the Council to let us—" Jace was cut off by the ringing of a bell…the bell.

"We'll talk later," Isabelle affirmed and wove her way to the front of the hall.

Consul Malachi climbed up the steps of the podium and stood at the center, waiting for everyone to settle down.

"Today was one of the bloodiest days in Shadowhunter history. Our losses were great and our gains were few," Malachi started, "And it had come to my attention that Clarissa Morgenstern is missing. I welcome Inquisitor Imogen Herondale to speak of this issue."

Jace watched with some pride as his grandmother took the stage, "Miss Morgenstern, or Clary as I have come to know her, was believed to have reactivated the demon towers of Alicante and then was taken by her brother after the reactivation. I would like recommendations on what to do about this situation. Clary is a valuable Shadowhunter to have in this war, and also is a dangerous weapon if forced to use against us. I believe that we should attempt a rescue mission to rescue her. My grandson and a few of his acquaintances believe to know where she is held."

Some Shadowhunters in the crowd looked like they agreed, but most were shaking their heads and frowning.

"There is still a good chance that Clarissa Morgenstern may betray us for her brother. Why should we take the risk?" a protest was sounded, and several more followed, all along the same lines of the first. Jace ground his teeth. They should understand that Clary was genuinely trying to help and she wanted nothing to do with her brother.

"All in favor of rescuing Clarissa Morgenstern?" very few people raised their hands, and Jace fought the urge to scream at them in frustration, "Very well. Please regroup with your friends and family and prepare for battle at all times. I suggest you get some rest and tend to your wounded. It's been a long day."

Jace stared at his grandmother in disbelief. How dare she? She said that she was going to ensure that Clary was rescued, and now she just lets them not care about her and let Clary rot! Jace strode over, rage barely concealed on his face. Magnus, Alec, and Isabelle followed.

"How could you let them just leave Clary to rot?" Jace demanded, controlling the urge to shout, as he didn't want to draw attention to himself. The Inquisitor's eyes sparkled with a look that just screamed trouble.

"They're not going to do anything. We're going to rescue Clary by ourselves."


End file.
